


The Truth About Vulcans And Humans

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-25
Updated: 2006-02-24
Packaged: 2018-08-15 17:27:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8065420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: ension on the Enterprise between a certain Vulcan and Human has escalated to the point that it has drawn the attention of the CONTINUUM. Duh, Duh, Duh, Dum!  Crossover with Star Trek: The Next Generation. (05/04/2003)





	1. A Tail of Two Enterprises

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

A flash appeared on the bridge of the Enterprise. Like so many other flashes from the past. Picard and the crew turned as one in reaction to the intruder.

Picard sat back in the command chair and let out a long suffering sigh.

"Greetings, mon Capitaine." Q stood rakishly before them in an Earth uniform that dated back to the time of the first human commanded warp starships. Picard admired the simple cotton/synthetic blend jumpsuit worn in that era. Maybe, he thought, if our uniforms were like that, I wouldn't always have to be constantly pulling down this damned tunic. It does ride up rather annoyingly, he mused.

"What? Not thrilled to see Moi? Frankly, Jean Luc, I am crushed." Q seemed to be absorbed picking a piece of fuzz from the sleeve of his uniform.

"What do you want Q?"

It was Q's turn to sigh, though much more dramatically. "No small talk anymore, Jean Luc? I see that all we have left between us is Slam, Bang, thank you Q. I remember when it used to be soooo different." Q shook his head with mock chagrin. A cigarette appeared in his hand. He took a long drag and blew out an almost impossible amount of smoke threw his mouth. And then burst into his most sunny and dangerous smile.

A growl started to emanate from the vicinity of the tactical station. "Oh Worf, I see that you have yet to graduate from obedience school. Jean Luc would be so proud to hang that diploma in his office." Worf took a menacing step toward Q, when the Captain raised his hand and stopped his progress.

Picard's voice hardened, as his patience was stretched to the limit. "Q."

"Right. Well I am in need of a favor. Actually, I am in need of a member of your crew." Q looked around at the bridge personnel. Well that shook them out of their complacency a bit, he thought, as he smiled to himself.

Picard stood up and took a step toward the rogue that had come to be a thorn in his side over the years. "If you think for one moment that I would sanction your use of a member of this crew..."

"Whoa there, Mon Capitaine. I am in need of the crew member that has a fondness for feline supplement #7."

"Captain, I believe that Q is referring to my cat, Spot." Data seemed to be concerned; " I do not believe that Spot would be interested in accompanying Qâ€”anywhere."

"Wow, Data, that emotion chip of yours is something else! How ever do you control yourself?" Q turned away from Data and refocused his questionable charm back on the captain.

"Captain, I am in need of Spot's assistance on a diplomatic mission to address a delicate problem in interspecies relations." With out askingâ€”no one assumed that he wouldâ€”a flash occurred again on the bridge. Q now held Spot in his arms. "Of course Spot will need to undergo a minor, and I assure, you completely reversible...sex change operation."

Data stood in attempt to confront Q.

"Data, I promise, Spot will not leave the Enterpriseâ€”I swear." And with that Q disappeared in another flash. The bridge crew could swear that they heard his laughter lingering for a moment after he was gone.

* * *

"All I am suggesting, Captain, is that we proceed with caution and delay the survey of the planet until we are able to complete a mission impact assessment. It should not take more than two days."

Tucker looked at T'Pol with a greater than usual amount of exasperation. "I swear T'Pol. You need to see Dr. Phlox as soon as possible."

"I fail to see the need to visit sick bay commander. I am in perfect health."

"Oh no, I was think'n that the doctor needs to investigate using you...as the perfect antidote to spontaneity and adventure."

T'Pol leaned slightly forward in her chair at the conference room table. "If that is the case, then you should proceed to sickbay with all due haste. The doctor will surely find that you are the antidote to..."

The Captain interrupted, "Trip, T'Pol..."

"...Any and all rational thought."

Commander Tucker rose from his chair, the legs squealing with protest as T'Pol simultaneously rose to confront him.

Archer looked down the table at his two officers. This was getting out of hand and something had to give and soon. As the two glared across the table at each other, Archer attempted to break through the hostility. In a tone that seemed to grow in volume and aggravation he said, "Is anyone here aware that your commanding officer is sitting at this table with you?"

His clipped tone seemed to finally get through to the two combatants when there was a flash of light and a tall man seeming to be wearing a twenty first century football referee uniform appeared. As Trip and T'Pol retreated in surprise, the intruder proceeded to blow a piercing blast from a whistle that hung from his neck.


	2. You're Such An Animal

"Who the hell are you and what are you doing on my ship?" Archer should have felt more intimidated by an intruder beaming into his conference room. But somehow, the absolute insanity of an alien being wearing 21st century referee clothing, disarmed him,

"I am the charter member of a group referred to a 'FOE'â€”that stands for 'Friends of Enterprise.' Just call me Q."

Trip's eyes never left Q as he said out of the side of his mouth. "Captain, shouldn't we be notifying someone likeâ€”Oh, let's say, MALCOLM, right about now?"

"Hmm Malcolm? That would be Lt. Reed, your armory officer." Q waved his hand rather indifferently and the startled Lieutenant appeared next to Trip in the conference room. Malcolm had just one moment to absorb the situation and his situation in particular. Startled, he opened his mouthâ€”maybe it was to ask the captain what the hell was going on. They never got the chance to find out. Suddenly Q waved his hand again and Malcolm was gone. "Nope. Don't think he would be helpful right now."

Archer said to his officers slowly and with exaggerated patience. "I think that you and T'Pol should take a seat. We may have a first contact situation here and I think that we should take a moment to get to know our visitor." Archer glanced at the alien, relinquishing the conversation so that just maybe they might get an explanation.

"Well here it is. I've learned a lot from the crew of the Enterprise." Three pairs of eyes questioned that statement. "Well not this Enterprise. All though I'm thinking that the voyeuristic possibilities of this crew by the third season should be quite entertainingBut, I digress. Anyway, Captain, I have decided that I, Q, will assist you in resolving the conflict on your team."

"Take my word for it. There is a lot riding on the interspecies relationship between Humans and Vulcans in the future. These two" Q waved a dismissive hand at the pair of officers, "have got the potential to bomb that right back into the stone age. So I'm going to borrow these two and hopefully teach them a little lesson in interspecies cohabitation."

To this point, Archer had not been too intimidated by the strangely dressed intruder, but at the threat of kidnapping his officers, he started to get concerned.

Both officers in union hollered, "Captain!" Before there was time for a reply they both disappeared from the conference room. Archer jumped to his feet but soon after the stranger named Q departed. Though he heard a voice that seemed to speak right into his right ear. "Enjoy the peace and quiet. It probably won't last all that long. I'm an omnipotent being, not a psychiatrist."

 

Trip woke up and realized that he was in the captain's room on the couch. He looked around and something didn't seem right. Everything looked bigger somehow. He shook his head and he felt something slap the top of his head and chin -over and over. He went to touch his head but something didn't feel right so he brought his hand down and took a look at his paw.

It's...a...paw, his thoughts screamed. Not just any paw. It looked like Porthos's paw. He was a dog. He was the Captain's dog. He was going to need serious analysis.

Before he gave it any serious thought, he went to slide his legs off the couch. But he forgot that dogs had four legs and not just two. His back end slid off the couch and the rest of him followed. He landed with a thump on his back, his paws pointing to the ceiling, wedged between the coffee table and the bottom of the couch.

This is just great. I've learned my first trickâ€”dead dog, Trip thought.

He heard some sound coming from the captain's bathroom. Thank God. All I have to do is get Jon's attention and...

Oh crud. It's a cat. Trip noted that the cat sauntered toward him. And finally he realized that he was still upside down.

"I am not a cat. Don't you ever get enough of your human insults. Where are you Commander."

Trip was floored. He heard T'Pol, but he couldn't see her. Unless. He squirmed around until he was back on all fours and sauntered toward the cat.

"Why don't you take a seat T'Pol. Take the load off those paws of your." The cat sat down. Amazing how similar T'Pol and the cat acted. Prissy sitter whether its in a seat or on the floor.

"Commander, this is not funny. Where are you?"

"T'Pol, look down at yourself." The cat glanced down at herself and promptly keeled over in an elegant puddle.

"Oh god, she fainted." Trip was not completely insensitive. He padded over to her and was completely at a loss as to what to do. He nudged her neck with his nose a couple of times. Out like a light he mused. Instinct took over and he started to lick one side of her face from her chin to the top of her head. Her fur plastered to her skull, T'Pol started to come around.

"What are you doing?" she thought back at him. Then she caught a whiff. "You stink, and your breath stinks even more. Oh no, how could fate be so cruel as to give me a nose even more sensitive than my own?" T'Pol turned around, tail in the air and slinked off a distance to put the hound down wind.

"Well that's just swell. I try to help and as usual I get your tail in my face. I...uh...mean you throw it back in my face."

Her tail, he thought. Drawn by instinct stronger than he understood, he approached.

T'Pol felt a nudge from behind, a puffing sensation and then something cold and wet on her backside."

"Commander Tucker!" T'Pol hollered. Trip suddenly realized where he was and what he was doing. Trip was justifiably embarrassed. There was only one thing that he could do. He chased his tail in circles until he caught it and then lay down to chew on it as he contemplated their situation.


	3. I Taut I Saw a Puddy Tat

Captain Archer walked the corridor leading to his cabin with a heavy tread. Malcolm had scanned every inch of the ship for his missing crew and 500 kilomiters of space in all directions for good measure. He rubbed his temple to try and divert the headache that was threatening.

Little did he know that around the corner was the mother of all migraines.

"Greetings again, mon Capitaine."

Archer didn't even think twice. He rounded on the intruder, slamming him up against the wall. His bent forearm pinned Q just under his chin in a choke hold. If Q actually breathed, this would have been a problem. It wasn't. One moment Archer had the illusive alien jammed up against the bulkhead. In the next moment, he lost his balance as he pitched toward the bulkhead and felt a tap on his shoulder.

Q shook his head in mock chagrin and continued in a dead-on impression of Sylvester, the Cat's son as he lisped, "Ohhhhhhh, Jonathan. What would all the other kittyth on the water polo team thay about your unthportthman-like conduct?"

Jonathan chose to not rise to the bait. "Where are my crew members? I mean it Q."

"My, my Jonathan, your concern is quite touching. I've been tuning in from time to time over the last ten months. Tell me, when you were crossing the desert planet with Commander Tucker...He seems to end up in your arms as often or more so than your Subcommander ever has. Do WE need to explore our feelings about this? Lack of commitment in a starship commander is sooo dclass."

A low growl rumbled from somewhere deep in Archer's chest. His arms flexed at his sides for a moment. He thought better of whatever action that he contemplated and turned on his heel and continued to proceed to his quarters.

"You'll find them soon enough Captain. Mark my words."


	4. Fight or Flight!

"I can't think. I need to meditate." In the center of the floor, T'Pol sat back on her tailbone and lifted one leg straight up in the air in a pose reminiscent of a complex yoga posture. Her head dipped towards her furry belly and then went lower still.

Tucker practically screamed like a sissy girl. "T'Pol stop right thereâ€”DO NOT MOVE! That may be cat meditatin', but I SWEAR I'll never be able to look you in the eye again if you're about to do what I think your gonna do."

Tongue still sticking out of her mouth, suddenly T'Pol seemed to realize what had almost happened. A look of utter feline disgust and despair crossed her furry face.

"Fffffft!" This is hopeless!

"Rrrrrrrrroff" Now, don't you start that up again. This is not all ma' fault.

"Hssssss." If I spend one more moment locked in this room with you...

"Rrrrrrooooowww Barf Woof Barf!." Fine. Just fine. Get the hell outta MY quarters!

As Archer closed on his quarters, he thought he heard sounds of a fight going on in side. After one particularly loud crash he heard a loud series of barks followed with what sounded like a hissing noise. Porthos was being ATTACKED!

Following the rather questionable instincts of humans for centuries that have run into burning houses to save their pets, Archer stepped directly into the fray. His first impression was of Porthos chasing a beige blur around the room. Whatever Porthos was chasing seemed to have achieved a vertical hold on the fronts and sides of various pieces of furnitureâ€”a feat normally only reserved for items spun in a centrifuge.

Before Archer had a chance to block the exit, the blur slipped behind him and ran down the corridor in the general direction of engineering.

Archer made a grab for the slightly slower moving Porthos and scooped him up. Holding him nose to muzzle, Archer thought that his normally placid beagle was about to have a seizure.

The moment Tucker saw T'Pol streaking down the corridor, the weight of their situation hit him right between his floppy beagle ears. It was bad enough that he was a dog. But at least he belonged to the Enterprise. T'Pol would be viewed as an intruder even if she was in a relatively familiar form to the human crew of the Enterprise. He had to get to T'Pol before someone else did. He had to get free from Archer. His whole body was in motion, trying to wiggle free from the captain.

Archer tried to tuck the dog under his arm so that he could notify Malcolm and a security team about the intruder.

Just as Archer was filling in Malcolm on the details of the incident in his quarters, Porthos gave one last super humanâ€”uh, super dogâ€”wriggle and squirted out of the Captain's arms like toothpaste from a tube that had been stomped on.

Trip was halfway down the corridor when he thought better of a mad headlong rush after T'Pol. He turned toward the Captain and made two clipped barks. Then turned and faced the direction that T'Pol had escaped.

Archer, not well versed in dogâ€”the language, called Porthos to come to him.

Trip was frustrated at his commander's lack of understanding and his own inability to get the point across. He ran halfway back to the captain, barked twice again and spun back around.

"Porthos, for heavens sake, what's with the Lassie routine?"

Trip growled softly under his breath. Well, he grouched to himself, I might not be Lassie, but you Jon are certainly no Timmy. Lassie was aces in Trip's book now, considering how much she accomplished while putting up with the frustratingly density of the more than likely misnamed homo sapiens. He didn't have time for this and turned and followed T'Pol's scent at a clip.

Trip was startled for a moment by a flash of light. Then he saw who it was. "Oh this is just great." Trip looked up as if to plead with a canine deity. "Who the hell did I piss off?" He looked up at the being walking next to him. "What do you want Q?"

"Haven't figured it out yet?"

Trip's only answer was a deep-throated growl that threatened a bloody ankle for Q if he wasn't careful.

"I can see that you are too preoccupied for enlightenment. All you human males can think about is chasing after a little puss..."

Trip barked loudly, thankfully interrupting Q before he could finish that thought. Before Archer got near enough to see Q, he vanished in another flash of light. At least, Trip mused, his doggy nose was still working. He caught T'Pol's scent again and raced down the hallway with the captain in hot pursuit.


	5. A Mad Dog And An Englishman

There was power and lithe grace in this feline body T'Pol thought. If only it's animal instincts did not seem to regularly betray her Vulcan dignity. With a luck that she had not experienced since this dreadful episode had begun, the door to engineering had opened. And as one of her crewmates entered, she slipped in undetected.

T'Pol thought that she might have a chance to get access to an engineering terminal in one of the nooks. Paws were a problem, but hers were dainty enough that she thought that she might be able to manipulate the input adequately. But to do what? Ideally she would post a message to the captain outlining the predicament that she and the commander found themselves in.

The Commander. She had not handled herself or the reality of the situation they both found themselves in well. She was centered enough now to realize that their predicament was not wholly his fault. She was familiar enough with some earth slang to understand the twisted irony. In her education of Human history and the arts she had taken note of a playwright by the name of William Shakespeare. One of his most perplexing plays to her at the time was Much Ado About Nothing. She could not understand how two characters that had so little in common and fought almost continuously could fall in love. And under the slimmest of pretexts, she mused. Beatrice was lead to believe by friends that Benedick was hopeless in love with her. The same ruse was played on Benedick. It seemed that they were the last to know what was in each other's hearts, masked from even themselves, by the constant sniping and bickering.

Could the same be said for herself and the commander? Did this annoying being that called himself Q actually have insight into both the Human and Vulcan heart? Nahhhhh!

Well maybe.

T'Pol filed that thought for further meditation and contemplation. Instead she assessed the safest route to the console in the corner whose view was shielded from most of engineering by the warp manifold.

It was late and the third shift was sparse. T'Pol hugged the wall and hoped her low profile would be to her advantage. Instead, an ensign dropped a spanner and bent down to retrieve it. With the devil's own luck, the ensign's head turned slightly and she caught sight of the cat. For a moment, both women froze. The ensign blinked once, then once more.

And then all hell broke loose. The ensign, was that Ensign Kelly, T'Pol thought, leaped for the comm panel and alerted security that they located the intruder. To her credit she also informed them that it seemed to be in the form of a marmalade colored tabby.

Kelly almost laughed as she added that little tidbit.

"Reed to Kelly. Could you repeat that last bit. I could have thought you said 'Cat.'"

Malcolm looked up from his tactical station and smirked at Travis. The smirk was gone when the ensign confirmed, "You heard right, lieutenant. I said cat. About 9 lbs, definitely female and marmalade in color."

Malcolm hit the intruder alert klaxon. There were no cats on his Enterprise!

* * *

Trip heard the alarms and just knew T'Pol was in trouble. Jon was right behind him as they both approached engineering. Trip heard him contact Malcolm on the bridge and confirm that 'their' intruder had been heading in the direction of engineering as well.

Trip barked sharply twice and looked at Jon expectantly. He sure hoped that it sounded like a doggy version of open sesame.

Archer knew that Porthos wanted in to engineering but unlike Porthos, Jon was pretty sure that this was no typical dog-chase-cat scenario. Porthos had no grasp as to what that creature might really be. For his own protection, Porthos needed to stay away from that cat.

Luckily for Trip, his friend had the habit of talking to his pet. Just seconds before Jon made to scoop up his delinquent pup, he scolded, "Engineering is no place for a dog, Porthos."

When Jon bent over he was met with empty space. Porthos had taken a step. Wait a second, the Captain thought. Did Porthos just growl at me? The small dog had pulled back some and hand his front paws braced and spread like a he was ready to take of like a coiled spring.

And that's just what he did when the engineering door unexpected opened.

Trip bounded into the center of the main floor in engineering. And froze as soon as he noticed a lot of legs around and a deafening silence. That is until Malcolm coolly ordered...

"If the furball movesâ€”shoot it."

Startled, Trip put on the breaks but underestimated a critic law of four- footed physics. Bodies in motionâ€”especially with paws and claws on a smooth floorâ€”tend to stay in motion.

Even when they stop running. Trip's back end seemed to get ahead of his front end just prior to its making contact with a resounding thud against the warp core housing.

Immediately above him he heard.

"Is that what Human's refer to as comic relief? Is so, it seems to be unsuccessful in relieving the tenseness of the current situation."

Trip looked up and saw T'Pol perched regally on the curving top of the warp core. "That's the thanks that I get for coming to your rescue? Ok, I'll give you it wasn't the most graceful of entrances, but do you have any idea on how to get us out of this Mexican standoff?"

Before T'Pol had an opportunity to answer, Malcolm and security team recovered from their surprise at the arrival of the ship's dog. Malcolm took a threatening step with weapon raised toward the pair.

"All right T'Pol, I hope you'll appreciate the fact that I'm about to take on Malcolm in full alien bug buster mode and sportin' a phaser rifle?" Before T'Pol had an opportunity to answer, Trip rushed Malcolm and started growling very low and with deep feeling. Both their necks were riding on his gambit.

Malcolm stepped back, started by Porthos's charge, reacting with multiple millennia of human instinct on avoiding mad dogs.. "Bloody hell. Porthos is possessed!"

Jon was startled by Porthos's odd behavior. As he took it all in, he was surprised that beagles could look so ferocious. The fur on the dog's back was standing up all along his backbone. Do Beagles have hackles? Up until today, Jon would have bet that the only thing that could get Porthos's goat would be someone swiping his cheddar. Porthos repeated the charge toward each of the security team, widening the circle in front of the warp core and his cat.

His cat, Jon thought. What if Porthos is protecting the cat?

"Everybody lower your weapons. Now."

"But, Captain?"

"Lower you weapon, Malcolm. Trust me." The security team lowered their weapons and were immediately rewarded with a exuberant tail wagging from Porthos as he backed up toward the cat."

Before the situation could settle down more, a flash of light appeared between Archer and the beagle and Q materialized in front of them.


	6. Saved By The Litter Box

"Ooooo. Look, our Alpo Lancelot saves the fair feline Guinevere from harm." Q turned toward Malcolm. "Come to think of it, Mordred did not come to a good end in that story, Malcolm. You might want to recast yourself as the stalwart friend. They tend to live longer." Q paused, struck a pose as if he was in deep thought, and with his palm under his chin, started tapping his temple with his index finger. "Then again, Patrocles didn't make it to see the fall of Troy. And there was that character played by Harry Connick in Independence Dayâ€”saw that one coming a mile away. Or Sean Connery's 1st officer that wanted to move to Montana in Hunt for the Red October. Now that I think of it, stalwart friends don't have a good survival track record either. You should thank you're lucky stars that security crew don't wear red shirts on Enterprise yet. You'd be a goner by the end of this chapter."

Porthos growled at Q and then made to walk toward Jon and past Q. But just as he was about to walk past Q, Trip lifted a leg and let Q have it...with both kidneys. It was a relief on multiple levels. The Captain had been too preoccupied with the events of the day to take Porthos for a walk.

Q's gaze was still fixed in Malcolm's direction. Q was not alerted to the situation until the dog had completed his circuit around Q and returned to sit at the base of the warp core with as much satisfaction as a Beagle could muster under any given situation and a chuckle rose from the surrounding audience.

"Dogs can be such good judges of character." Q was momentarily speechless at being bested by a dog. Before anyone had an opportunity to react, the cat jumped from the top of the warp core next to Porthos, meowedâ€”and licked him on the side of his furry little head.

The humans heard a me-ow, but Trip heard, "My hero!" And his mouth fell open into a very wide doggy grin indeed.

Recovering, Q plucked at his damp pant leg and moaned, "The sacrifices that I make on behalf of the crews of the Enterprise and interspecies harmony." And in a flash, he was gone.

* * *

The beagle had made it very clear that he was not going to be separated from the cat. So the first step of the day was to take both animals to see Dr. Phlox. Other than exhaustion, both animals had missed several naps that day, the animals seemed to be the normal earth creatures that they appeared to be. Phlox did note that there seemed to be something odd about their brain scans. He planned to review their scans later that day and do some research. He released both animals into the Captain's custody.

"Oh and captain, you may want to acquire a box and fill it with dried bits of hydrous silicate of aluminumâ€”she'll need it soon."

It took Archer a moment to figure out that the doctor was referring to a litter box. Both animals looked tuckered out. So he made arrangements for someone in engineering to fabricate a litter box and deliver it to his quarters. Then he placed the cat on his shoulder and picked Porthos up in his arms, carrying them of both to his quarters. He dropped them off, admonishing both to behave themselves while he was gone and proceeded to the bridge.

"The Captain's final instructions sounded remarkably like those that he gives to us when we are in our bipedal forms," remarked T'Pol as she sat grooming on the edge of the bed.

Trip was sniffing the bed in the area that he intended to lie on and circled it thoughtfully three times before dropping down to rest. "Yeah, I'm beginning to realize what a pain in the ass we can be at times. We work better when were workin' together."

They had finally come up with a plan. Trip had picked up a stylus from the captain's table and typed up a simple message on the PADD that he left on his desk. "Dog/cat =Trip/TPOL. Q did it." Not the most erudite explanation, but try typing with something stickin' outta you mouth, he griped to himself. The PADD had fallen to the floor as Trip had struggled to type the message. Trip checked and it was still on the screen. T'Pol had written an SOS in the litter box that would hopefully help them get Jon's attention so that they could lead him to the PADD.

There had only been a slight snag while they were waiting.

Porthos had heard something that sounded suspiciously like digging. Then T'Pol appeared in the bathroom doorway.

"Uh, T'Pol. Did you just use the litter box again? Ummm, did you remember to rewrite the SOS?" T'Pol shook her head and turned to repair the damage.

"You are quite good at thinking like an animal, Commander."

Instead of taking offense as usual, Trip favored her with as close to a leer as a beagle's face could manage. "Darlin' Human males have been thinkin' like animals since they climbed outta the primordial ooze."

"In that case, I'm am pleased that I have you as a companion in this...adventure."

T'Pol returned from the bathroom a few minutes later. Trip thought she looked like she was on her last paws. "Come on T'Pol. The Captain wouldn't begrudge us a little shuteye. It's been a long damn day."

Trip jumped onto the Captain's bed and nestled into the center. T'Pol contemplated the dog before her and then jumped up as well. What surprised Trip was that she headed straight toward him, gave his head a few licks as he closed his eyes. Oh boy, he thought, I wouldn't mind coming back as the Captain's dog under these circumstances.

As she curled between his front and back legs and laid her head on his chest and closed her eyes, Trip lifted his head and looked at her. Bemused, he said, "Uh, T'Pol. Your OK with this arrangement?"

Without opening her eyes, she responded, "Blame it on feline instincts."

"Good enough for me," he sighed with satisfaction and curled around her a little tighter and gave her forehead a quick lick. The both slept soundly.

Archer returned to see both animals curled up and soundly asleep. What did surprise him was found in the bathroom. Checking to see if he needed to do some scooping, he was startled to see what seemed to spell out an SOS. Archer, you're loosing it, he thought. Maybe worrying about his two senior officers was getting the better of him. He approached the sink and contemplated the haggard reflection in the mirror. He splashed some water on his face and returned to the living area. He found his PADD on the floor and turned it on to make sure that it was not damaged.

Enlightenment soon followed. As did Q.

"About time that you figured this out. I'd like to be around when you and your Chief Engineer talk about scratching his belly. That should be interesting."

"Turn them back Q. Now. I mean it."

"Hmm. I have to give this some thought. The writers depend on me to get them out of trouble from time to time. Whatever would they have done if I had not introduced the Borg? Movie revenues, toy licensing? I ask you?"

"Borg?"

"Uh, forget I said that. You're going to get into enough trouble on your own without opening that particular cube of worms. Hmmm, I think the writers will have more fun if Spot was a female. We sure did? Didn't we? Back she goes." Q waved his arm in the general direction of the pair sleeping on the bed. "Viola"

The pair stirred slightly on the bed, but remained asleep.

The Captain's dog was now at his feet wagging his tail appreciatively. Archer glared at the being before him and through gritted teeth growled softly. "Clothes...NOW!"

"Et tu Jonathan? You Starfleet Captains take all the fun out of being an omnipotent being." And with that Q disappeared, leaving two fully clothed bridge officers napping in the center of the Captain's bed.


End file.
